


Things Deserved

by RosaleenBan



Series: Cuddling an Archangel [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-16 12:20:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosaleenBan/pseuds/RosaleenBan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam believes he deserves to be punished for past sins, and uses sex as a means to that end. Gabriel disagrees, and changes Sam’s mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things Deserved

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: Exceedingly rough sex (but 100% consensual), depression, self-harm (psychologically if not traditionally). 
> 
> I’m so sorry, Sam. I had this idea, and I had to write the first part for the second part to work. I promise everything works out right in the end. Kinda.
> 
> AU in the fact that I really only kept to canon up to mid-season 6. After that, all bets are off.
> 
> A companion piece to Cuddling an Archangel, though that one was written first, this could be seen as a prequel, if drabbles have prequels. 
> 
> Also, no beta - all mistakes are mine.

Sam didn’t tend toward physical manifestations of his depression. He didn’t drown his issues in food, or lose his appetite when things got bad. He had certainly never been into cutting or anything like that; he had more than enough cuts and bruises as a result of his job, thank you very much. Even tears weren’t something he was especially familiar with, though sometimes he thought he might be a lot healthier if he were.

He had never had the chance to decide if any of those appealed to him. Growing up as he did in motel rooms, always sharing a small space with his brother and father, had prohibited that. If nothing else, they would have noticed, and that would have been more trouble than it was worth.

But sometimes his guilt got the better of him. Sometimes, when he remembered Dean’s long visit to Hell, or the gleam of Lillith’s blood as it opened Lucifer’s cage, or even the heinous acts he had performed that year without a soul, he wanted penance, redemption. He wanted a reminder, physical and painful and real, of what he was and why he needed to hunt.

When those moods hit, Sam turned to sex. Not the honest, open sex he had shared with Jess, or even the fun, playful sex he had shared with girls and guys he used to pick up at bars when he was younger. No, Ruby had taught him differently, and it was one lesson he chose to hang onto.

These days, Sam sought out rough, punishing sex that made him feel raw and exposed, brutalized: the kind that left dark ugly marks on his skin for days. Women weren’t likely to have the strength to fulfill that need, so he tended to find men who would stretch him out, biting and clawing at his torso as they tore him in two. And he begged them to do it.

And if anyone saw those marks the next day? Sam just got a look of brotherly pride from Dean when he explained them, instead of worried looks and awkward talks.

Which is how he found himself here, in his own motel room, with a broad shouldered blond named Trent, who was a full three inches taller than Sam, and who could probably bench press him to boot.  He was like something straight out of a gay porn, all buff and overbearing and really not Sam’s type at all, but exactly what he needed right now.

Sam was currently on his bed, spread out on his stomach, Trent draped over his back, pulling his head back painfully by his hair and making Sam cry out in surprise.

“Mmm….gonna make you remember me in the morning,” he growled into Sam’s ear before letting him go and leaning back.

Sam felt one hard hand dig into his hip, his only warning before a thick, unlubed finger pressed into him, just as he had asked the guy to do when he chatted him up in the bar. It hurt, like fire and knives inside him, and he could feel himself going soft at the touch. He let out a loud, agonized moan before pleading, “More. Please.”

His partner chuckled softly and started moving inside of him, fast and brutal. Almost as soon as Sam began to accustom himself to the feeling, another finger pushed in. He wasn’t nearly ready enough to accept it, though, and Sam let out another soul-shattering moan.

“What. The. Fuck?”  Sam’s pain-hazed mind heard the words from across the room, but he didn’t process them until the fingers inside of him stopped moving. He was sure he had locked the door, and he hadn’t heard it being picked or opened, so there were only two possible beings who could have asked the question.

“Gabriel?” Sam asked without turning around. “Get out. Now.”

“Ummmm….no,” Gabriel said, in a way that let Sam know he wasn’t even considering it. “If your brother is sending me into your room because the noises you’re making make him certain you’re being _murdered_ , I at least get an explanation before I leave.”

Trent pulled both hands away from Sam, killing any mood that might have been left. Which, to be fair, was almost none at this point.

“Really?” Sam turned his head to look at Gabriel. “Do I need to draw you a diagram? Get out.”

Trent stood up, exposing Sam’s abused backside and soft cock to Gabriel, and Gabriel raised one startled eyebrow. “Apparently you do,” Gabriel said. “I think your friend should leave.”

Sam sat up and looked back at Trent, who was already starting to collect his clothes. “No, stay. Gabe’s going to leave.”

“Not happening, Sam-a-lam,” Gabriel said. “I’m going to go tell Dean you’re fine, and then I’m going to come back and we’re going to talk. Tell your boy toy you can make a play date for another day.” And then Gabriel opened the motel room door and slipped out, for all intents and purposes a human being who had to walk between rooms.

Sam turned back to Trent, who was already in his jeans and grabbing his shirt. “Sorry about my friend,” he said, trying to salvage the night. “He’s a pain in the ass, but I can lock him out if you want to stay.”

“Mood’s kinda killed,” he said gruffly. He pulled a card out of his wallet and handed it to Sam. It only contained his first name and a phone number. “Wouldn’t mind trying again though, when you have less friends around. Give me a call sometime.”

“Will do,” Sam said with a fake smile, knowing he would throw out the card as soon as the guy left. He grabbed his boxers from the floor and slipped them on, his ass already throbbing painfully from the little they did do. He pulled Trent’s jacket off the motel chair and tossed it across the bed to the guy. “I’ll see you around.”

“Cya, Sam,” he said. Then he was gone, the motel room door slamming behind him.

Sam sighed and sat down heavily on the bed, running his fingers through his hair. A talk about his sex life with Gabriel, the sexy, obnoxious, over-the-top archangel, was not on his list of things he wanted to do tonight. Or, really, ever. Even as an ex-Trickster, Gabriel was too much of an angel to understand what Sam was doing without judging him. And after years of angels calling him “tainted” and “the boy with the demon blood,” he really didn’t need any more angelic judgment.

 He grabbed his shirt from the floor and pulled it over his head, determined to at least have some dignity for this conversation.

Before his head was through the collar, the archangel was back. “Aww, Sammy, you didn’t have to get dressed on my account.”

 “Apparently, I did,” Sam growled, looking over to the chair Gabriel had snapped himself onto. “You chased away any reason I had to be naked.”

“Yeah, sorry for breaking up the party, kiddo, but it didn’t look like you were having much fun anyway.”

“I was fine,” Sam said. “He was doing exactly what I asked him to.”

Those overly expressive eyebrows shot up again, in a way Sam usually found intriguing but currently just found infuriating. “Really? Sex like that with no lube? Why?’

“Cause he’s a power top and thought it was sexy?” Sam hazarded with a roll of his eyes.

Gabriel gave him a put upon face and asked slowly, “Why did you ask him to?”

“Why is it any of your business, Gabriel?” Sam asked, pointedly using the angel’s full name.

Gabriel sighed. “Look, it’s not. I’m sorry. But really kiddo, you are seriously delusional if you think you can fool me; I can see that something’s going on here. So why don’t you talk to me about it?”

“No,” Sam told him.

“Ok, then I’ll leave you be and let Dean try to talk to you about this instead. Or maybe Castiel.”

Sam’s eyes grew wide. “Are you blackmailing me into talking about my feelings?”

“And your sex life,” Gabriel agreed pleasantly. He snapped and two steaming cups of hot chocolate appeared on the nightstand between the bed and the chair. They smelled delicious. Gabriel picked his up to sip, but Sam resolutely ignored his.

“My sex life is none of your business. Or Dean’s business,” Sam told him. “Especially not Dean’s.”

“Yeah, he’s not going to like being told he has to talk to you about this, is he?” Gabriel mused. “I bet he’d do it anyway. I bet he was the one who gave you the ‘birds and the bees’ talk, wasn’t he?”

Sam grimaced. That was not a memory he was keen on dredging up.

“See?” Gabriel crowed. “He may not like it, but he will. So you can talk to me, or wait for him tomorrow.”

Sam huffed an exasperated breath. “I was just blowing off some steam,” he said, honest enough in a twisted way.

“Yeah,” Gabriel said, in a way that did not sound convinced at all. He sighed and put down the hot chocolate before saying in an uncharacteristically soft voice, “Look, Sam, I know what’s going on here, and it’s not – you deserve better than that.”

“I don’t think you do, Gabe,” Sam told the angel. “I deserve what I want, whether or not you like it. I’m pretty sure I don’t deserve this conversation with you. Or Dean.”

“What about Castiel?” Gabriel asked with a small smirk.

“No.” Sam doesn’t even want to think about that.

“Ok, then, how about we talk about what I deserve?” Gabriel asked.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“Look, I get that I’m not your favorite person. You put up with me because of Dean, and Dean puts up with me because of my baby bro, but I’ve been traveling with you three for what? A year now? Don’t you think maybe I’m here because I actually care about you Winchesters? You particularly? Don’t you think it bothers me to see you torturing yourself like that? That maybe it kills your brother to hear it?”

“We don’t just put up with you,” Sam told him, ignoring the rest of Gabriel’s words in favor of changing the subject. “Do you really think that?”

“Not Dean – Dean and I have an understanding since I pushed Cassie into his bed. With you though? I have no idea,” Gabriel told him.

Sam ran his fingers through his hair. Really, that’s not a surprising answer; since Gabriel had been resurrected, Sam had been hot and cold with him. He liked the angel – more than he probably should – but he had kept him at arm’s length despite his overtures. Even if the archangel seemed willing to ignore his past, he couldn’t. The romantic and sexual advances had stopped months ago, and now the two had a shaky friendship at best, with Sam always wary of letting the smaller man get too close.

“I –” Sam started, with no idea what to say. “I want to get some sleep. Can we talk about this later? Please?”

“No,” Gabriel told him definitively.

“Worth a shot,” Sam said with a tired smile. Then, more seriously, “I don’t just tolerate you here. I like you. I just – I’m not good at this people thing anymore. I’ve done a lot in the last few years, and I don’t exactly have a lot of angels willing to tolerate my presence you know.”

Gabriel snorted, “Yeah, neither do I.”

Sam laughed, conceding the point. “Anyway, I’m sorry. I have a lot I’m dealing with, and it hasn’t made me the nicest person. Not that I’m sure I ever was to begin with.”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re actually dealing with it, Sammy,” Gabriel told him. “Looks to me like you’re punishing yourself for things you couldn’t control.”

Sam grimaced. Gabriel was pushing the conversation back where he didn’t want it to go. “Says the man who killed my brother a few hundred times to teach me a lesson. I thought you were into that whole punishment thing.”

“I thought we were over that,” Gabriel said, not unfairly. Sam _had_ forgiven him for that ages ago, and Gabriel knew it. “And you clearly didn’t get the lesson then, either. I was trying to show you there are some things beyond your control that you just have to accept.”

Yeah, Sam did know that. “You didn’t do a very good job of it.”

“Right lesson, wrong methods,” Gabriel told him.  “Maybe I should try again, now that I know you respond to carrots instead of sticks.”

Suddenly he was out of the chair and crouched in front of Sam, way too close for Sam’s comfort.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Sam choked out.

Gabriel tilted his head and just _looked_ at Sam for a moment, as though he was figuring out a puzzle. Then he gave Sam a quick, tight smile and leaned back on his heels.

“That’s what tonight was about, right? You weren’t into that; you were punishing yourself,” Gabriel said seriously, and Sam frowned at him. “Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll leave it be and let you get up to whatever kinky things you want, as long as you’re out of earshot of the rest of us. But that was it, right?”

Sam looked down. He couldn’t lie to Gabriel – the archangel would be able to tell instantly – so he pressed his lips together and stared at the dingy motel carpet just to the left of Gabriel’s feet. He shifted a bit on the bed, feeling the raw soreness from earlier that night.

They stayed silent for a few long moments, Sam staring resolutely at the floor, feeling Gabriel’s eyes on him. Sam was about to ask Gabriel to leave again when a hand touched his cheek, cradling his face. He leaned into it despite himself, closed his eyes and let himself breathe in the warm, sweet smell of Gabriel’s wrist.

“Look at me, Sam,” Gabriel said softly but powerfully, and Sam knew instinctively that he was invoking his power as God’s Messenger.

Sam’s eyes snapped open and he met Gabriel’s gaze automatically.

“You don’t need to punish yourself for any of this, Sam,” Gabriel said, his voice still soft but resonant. “You were pushed into everything you did by angels and demons, and even tricksters, and you and your brother still came out on top. You still avoided the apocalypse. With everything that’s been thrown at you, you managed to do so much more than anyone expected you to. Even the angelic Host can’t deny that.”

He smirked and his voice lost its commanding tone as he continued, “And take it from me. Dad? He did not create sex as a way for you humans to punish yourselves or each other. The exact opposite, really.”

Sam bit his bottom lip, unsure of how to respond. Part of him wanted to believe Gabriel – the part that had continued to pray right up until the aborted apocalypse, that had believed he could make a life without hunting, that peace was an option for him; the part he had given up for dead long ago. Another part of him wanted to take advantage of the angel’s proximity and reach out to kiss him. Most of him just wanted to run.

“I don’t –”

“Nope, no arguing, Samsquach,” Gabriel interrupted with a small smile, running the pad of his thumb over Sam’s cheekbone. “Dad’s Messenger, remember? I know things.”

Sam had to look down again, not trusting what the archangel would see if he kept eye contact. 

Gabriel sighed and recited to himself, “Right. Winchesters. Respond to actions, not words. Definitely not tricks.”

Sam bit down a small laugh. It took a year of hunting with them, but the archangel was learning how to speak Winchester.

 And then the archangel gently pulled his head forward, and his lips were on Sam’s, softly, almost chastely. Sam pressed into Gabriel’s touch, humming into his mouth. God, but he wanted this, had wanted it for the past year.

Gabriel was the first to pull back, after just a few short seconds, before Sam could open his mouth and deepen the kiss. Sam whined softly at the loss of contact.

Gabriel heard, of course.

“That,” he said softly. “That is what it’s supposed to be about. Something you want, and that you deserve.”

Sam wasn’t sure about that last part, but he definitely wanted this. Gabriel didn’t give him a chance to respond, he just pressed close and started kissing Sam again. This time Sam opened his mouth and let him explore. Gabriel tasted sweet and minty, like hot chocolate and peppermint on Sam’s tongue.

Gabriel pulled away and started to climb onto Sam, pressing him back to lie on the mattress. “You ok with this?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Sam breathed out, running his fingers down Gabriel’s sides.

“Good, cause I’ve been trying to get in your bed for _months,_ ” the archangel smirked, and somehow he managed to sound superior with the confession.

Sam shifted them on the bed so they laid on it lengthwise and Sam could actually fit all of his limbs on it, and winced at his lingering pain.

“Can’t have that. This is supposed to be about feeling good. _You’re_ good,” Gabriel told him, running his fingers over Sam’s hips. Sam could feel himself relaxing as Gabriel flooded him with healing grace, and after a moment, the pain was gone. “Going to make you feel so good, Sammy. Going to make you _believe_ it.”

“I – ” Sam started to protest, because it’s too much, and he doesn’t need to hear those words, especially not now, not when this is going on because that’s not the kind of sex he has anymore – but Gabriel silenced him with a kiss. This one was deep and intimate, and Sam found himself melting into it. 

Sam decided maybe the best course of action was to just try to keep the trickster quiet and enjoy himself.

He pushed off Gabriel’s jacket without breaking the kiss, then pulled up at his tee-shirt. They separated just long enough for both of them to lose their shirts before Sam pulled Gabriel back in for another kiss.

And he had to admit, it was nice. Gabriel’s hands roamed over his torso and hips with passion and urgency, but not the kind of desperation that leaves bruises. And though he kissed with a single-minded focus Sam had rarely experienced, it wasn’t bruising. Sam hadn’t been kissed like this since long before his time in the cage, maybe even since Jess.

Gabriel’s mouth dipped to Sam’s neck, and he pulled at Sam’s boxers. Sam lifted his hips and let him pull them off.

“What do you want?” Gabriel asked hungrily in Sam’s ear before nibbling at the lobe.

“Anything,” Sam moaned out.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Gabriel smirked. He began kissing and licking his was down Sam’s torso, and Sam could see where this was going.

Just before he reached Sam’s cock, he snapped his fingers, but Sam didn’t have a chance to see what happened. Instead, he threw his head back, moaning, as Gabriel deep-throated him in one quick motion. The archangel must have been pleased with the reaction, because he hummed around Sam’s shaft as he pressed his legs apart and up to his chest. And just as Sam was totally distracted by Gabriel’s tongue on his head, one gentle finger, slathered with lube, breached his entrance.

This was nothing like before. Gabriel took his time with preparation, waiting for Sam to beg for it before he added each additional finger. The whole time, he kept Sam’s cock in his mouth, doing some truly creative things with his tongue.

Who knew archangels were such good multitaskers?

He didn’t stop until he had four fingers sliding easily into Sam, and Sam was certain he was about to come from the touch of Gabriel’s mouth and fingers. “Ready for me?” he asked.

Sam moaned his affirmative, having lost the ability to form cohesive words when Gabriel had started with the fourth finger. Fortunately, Gabriel understood.

He must have mojo-ed his pants away at some point, because suddenly he was naked and kneeling over Sam, hooking Sam’s legs over his shoulders.

He was smirking again, and Sam found that comforting, familiar. But then he started talking. 

“You have no idea what you look like, do you? Spread out and ready and hard like that? I’m going to make this so good for you.”

“Please,” Sam choked out, because really? Now was not the time for _talking._

“Hmmm, not yet, Samsquach,” Gabriel said, and oh God he was pressing the head of his cock right onto Sam’s ready entrance, but he wasn’t _moving_. Sam needed him to move. He tried to press down, urging him, but Gabriel used one hand on his hip to pin him with angelic strength. “First I want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?” Sam asked, and was that his voice? It sounded rough and desperate.

Gabriel bent down, putting his other hand on Sam’s face again. “You deserve this,” he said before pressing a closed-mouthed kiss on Sam’s lips.

“I –” Sam started, and his voice broke.

Gabriel kissed him again, rubbing his cheek with his hand. “You deserve to feel good. To make it fun. Not to feel guilty.”

Sam moaned and pawed at Gabriel’s hips. He was too close, too on edge to process any of this right now.

“Say it,” Gabriel demanded, moving his hips just enough to tease, but not enough to give him any release. “Tell me you deserve it.”

And fuck – he needed this. “I deserve it,” he moaned the words, and they were just words. He didn’t believe them.

And Gabriel knew, but he took pity on him, because he just said “We’ll work on that,” and started to –finally! – move.

It only took a few strokes for Gabriel to find the right angle, and then Sam was gone. He was sure his moans could be heard throughout the motel, but he frankly didn’t care. Especially given how Gabriel seemed to be getting off on them.

After so much prep, it didn’t last long for either of them, but that didn’t matter, because Sam was seeing white and calling Gabriel’s name as he came with the best orgasm he’d had since – well, maybe ever.

 Gabriel wasn’t far behind, and after a few more strokes, he came in Sam, filling him up in a whole new way before shuddering and collapsing on his chest.

They stayed there silently for a long moment. Sam was just about to pull away to go take a shower when Gabriel’s arms came around him. “That’s how it’s supposed to feel,” Gabriel said, a sense of finality in his voice, before pressing small kisses into Sam’s chest.

“I need to clean up,” Sam said weakly.

Gabriel lifted his head and tried to smirk, though it looked silly and just a bit giddy to Sam. “Have you forgotten who you’re with here?”

Of course, he snapped and suddenly they were both clean.

“Apparently,” Sam said dryly, though he couldn’t completely suppress his smile. Not with this afterglow.

He tried to get up again, but Gabriel just pinned him down and continued to lazily kiss his way up Sam’s shoulders and neck. “Nope. Cuddle time. Not going anywhere.”

This time, Sam let himself really smile. “It’s been a long time,” he said hesitantly.

“Long overdue, then,” Gabriel told him. Tentatively, he put a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, and Gabriel leaned into it. “I think we’ll need to practice this. A lot.”

“I –”

“If you say you can’t or won’t, so help me I’m going to snap up some actual moose antlers on that head of yours,” Gabriel threatened, and Sam snapped his mouth shut.

“Sure,” he said finally. “Lots of practice.”

And who knew? Maybe it would actually happen.


End file.
